In the former Chez Géraud (Géraud Rongier, who popularized the place), we talk, but we don't apostrophe from one end of the room to the other without restraint. This is the 16th arrondissement, where you're more likely to eat à la carte than from the lunch menu shyly presented on the tiny slate. Brosset's pâté croûte pampers gently, the sweetbreads are crisp and sucrine-tinged, and the baba au rhum chats politely with its generous crème montée. Parisian-style service, between connivance with the regulars and detachment with the others, a fairly affordable cellar, but lacking in imagination.